Chapter 3

By nightfall, Cecilia had left the Blackwood estate behind, the sprawling mansion shrinking in the rearview mirror as she drove away. She didn’t look back; the place that had once represented stability now felt suffocating, haunted by betrayal. The journey was long, and by the time she reached Northbrook, the day was already dawn. The town was worlds away from the opulence and shadowed halls of Blackwood Mansion, and for the first time in a long while, Cecilia felt a faint glimmer of hope.

Northbrook is where her friend Annie lives. Cecilia told Annie about his divorce from Andrew and she invited her to come and stay with her.

Northbrook was peaceful, untouched by the chaos and heartache she had left behind. She found her friend, Annie’s modest apartment in the heart of town, its humble charm soothing her frayed nerves.

Annie, Cecilia’s friend from high school, moved to Northbrook after fleeing her husband, who refused to sign the divorce papers that would free her from the arranged marriage her parents had forced upon her.

Over the next few days, Cecilia settled into her new life, allowing the simplicity of Northbrook to calm the turmoil inside her.

But her heartache was far from forgotten. Each time she shut her eyes, the memory of Andrew and Vivian stayed in her thoughts, a painful indication of the life she had struggled to keep intact. She attempted to concentrate on reconstructing her life and attaining tranquility, yet the lingering queries continued to trouble her.

As the weeks passed by, her illness started to burden her more and more. The strange symptoms progressed, sapping her energy and making her feel like she was slowly disappearing, bit by bit.

In the evening, Cecilia sat next to the window, gazing at the dark street, feeling burdened by everything she had experienced.

She clutched her hands together, her mind racing with thoughts of her family, of Andrew, and the thought of Andrew expecting a baby with Vivian. Despite everything, she knew she couldn’t turn back. She had sacrificed too much to return to the life that had betrayed her.

Just as she closed her eyes, a faint noise caught her attention a whisper of movement in the hallway outside their apartment. Tense, with keen senses, she stood up from her chair, her eyes locked on the door.

Listening intently, she held her breath, her heart rate increasing. Next, a quiet and easily recognized voice disrupted the quietness, muffled by the door yet still clear.

“Cecilia, I am aware that you are inside. Let me in.”

Upon hearing Andrew's voice, she was startled and her heart reacted with a combination of fear and anger. She stepped back from the door, her thoughts running wild. Why was he here? How had he even found her?

Her lack of response was a silent plea for him to go away, to understand that she had no interest in him. But the handle turned, and she realized he was not leaving.

“Cecilia,” he repeated a hint of impatience in his tone. “I just want to talk.”

Gritting her teeth, Cecilia finally spoke, her voice steely and cold. “I don't have anything to tell you, Andrew. Leave."

There was a moment of silence, and she sensed the tension in the air, a quiet struggle of desires.

"I’m not going anywhere," he stated firmly. “Not until we talk.”

Cecilia felt the rage bubble up inside her. He dared to show up here and insist on talking to her as if he still had a right to. She breathed deeply, preparing herself, and walked nearer to the door.

"What brought you here, Andrew?" Cecilia inquired, her voice tinged with the bitterness she had made an effort to conceal. "Haven’t you done enough damage?"

Following a period of silence, he let out a sigh and she could hear him walking away down the hallway. After the noise stopped, she exhaled the breath she had unknowingly been holding, with her heart still pounding as she gazed at the shut door.

The following morning, Cecilia woke to the harsh morning light streaming through the small window of her Northbrook apartment, the pale sun not quite enough to banish the chill in her bones. The lingering remnants of her dream, a memory of Andrew’s cold words, Vivian’s cryptic smile sent a tremor down her spine. But the moment she stood, the dizziness hit her again, stronger this time. Her knees buckled, and she caught herself on the wall, her breath shallow, as a surge of weakness washed over her.

Cecilia had grown used to this by now—unexplained fatigue, dizziness, and a persistent fever that seemed to come and go in unpredictable waves. The prescribed medicines had done nothing.

But something gnawed at the back of her mind. Her illness wasn't getting better. She felt it in her very bones, a creeping sensation she couldn’t shake.

A sharp knock on the door startled Cecilia, cutting through the thick silence of her tiny room. She stiffened, her heightened senses pricking to attention. Who would that be?

“Cecilia, it’s me,” a familiar voice called. Annie. Relief swept over her like a tide, but it didn’t stop her instinctive caution.

Cecilia cracked the door open, her glowing amber eyes meeting Annie’s. The concern etched on her friend’s face was almost visible.

“Why are you doing this to yourself, Cecilia? Locking yourself away like a caged wolf?” Annie’s voice was low but laced with a hint of scolding. “The moon still rises, and the world moves on. Let me help you break free from this... this torment.”

“I’m fine,” Cecilia muttered, her voice rough, but even she didn’t believe it.

“No, you’re not.” Annie crossed her arms, a firm set to her jaw. “Get ready. I’ll show you around this city. Trust me, you’ll love it. The woods may feel like home, but the wild beats everywhere if you know where to look.”

Cecilia hesitated, her instincts warring with her need to escape the suffocating walls of her thoughts. “Fine,” she mumbled and retreated into the bathroom.

As the cold water poured over her, it carried away the tension gripping her muscles. The sharp sensation was grounding, soothing the restless ache under her skin. For the first time in days, she felt... alive.

Minutes later, she dressed up, her long coat concealing her slim frame, her hair still damp and wild like her spirit.

Annie was waiting for her inside her old Jeep, tapping the hood impatiently. “It's time, let's go,” she teased her with a playful glint in her eyes.

Cecilia climbed in silently, and they drove off toward the town. As the city lights came into view, she felt the faintest flicker of hope stir within her. A small hope against the darkness she had been drowning in.

Upon getting to Northbrook Park, Cecilia decided to navigate on her own. She went to the nearest building hoping to ask for directions from the reception. But unfortunately for her, the first building she entered was a basketball court.

All of a sudden she heard commotion from the left. Her head moved in the direction where the noise was coming from. It was the boy’s locker room, the door was wide open, so Cecilia didn’t necessarily have to go in to have a peek.

Cecilia could see a bunch of guys with well-built bodies, all gathered around one particular section.

The scene starts to clear as the crowd parted ways, making way for one particular person. He was taller than others and had more muscle power. He was effortlessly overtowering the most buffed-up guys there. No wonder the other guys were all scooting away.

He walks towards the guy who is bent towards the locker for support.

“It’s not nice snitching on me, was it Jamil?” The bully taunts. “Look at where it has gotten you.” He states in a sing-song-like tone that he enjoys putting on a show for everyone.

“You wouldn’t get away with this, Ethan.” Jamil, the guy who’s being bullied tries to put up a facade of false bravery.

However, it vanishes immediately when the other guy grabs him by his hand and smashes the back of his head against the metal chair beside him, giving rise to a grating noise.

“I do the talking here,” Ethan states as Jamil moves back in fear. Sweat now dripping from his forehead.

“Are we clear?” He grunts, still maintaining a jarring hold on Jamil’s hand.

Jamil can only manage to let out a painful moan, groaning in pure agony. This further enrages the bully who is holding him by his hand.

“I said are we clear?” He spits out, knocking his head against the metal chair again.

Blood starts dripping from his head. Instead of being concerned, the guys who form a circle start rooting for Ethan, the bully. Something tells Cecilia that it’s not the first time something like that is happening in that place.

Cecilia can’t help but want to intrude. No one wants to stop Etthan. He doesn’t seem any way near to end that fight. And if the fight continues, the poor guy might be seriously wounded.

Ye… Yes.” Jamil manages to whisper despite barely being conscious. But Ethan wasn’t satisfied with Jamil’s response. He raises Jamil’s head again to hit it again against the metal chair.

“Stop.” Cecilia shrieks, closing her eyes as she speaks. She slowly opens her eyes to see all heads turn at her.

Ethan's hawk-like eyes examine her from head to toe, analyzing something deeply for a moment before the expression on his face changes.

“Wrong place, wrong timing, dear.” He comments. His tone seems oddly nice, unlike how it was with the guy he was previously punching like a piece of rag.

“Okay, I will be generous today.” He adds, eyeing Cecilia with a playful expression. A desire for something deeper.

“Move along, Love.” He states pretending to be a gentleman, before going back to the important matter at hand.

“Your coach is coming!” Cecilia yelled after a minute without thinking properly. It was the only lie that came into her mind, but they fell for her trick.

Within moments, the crowd starts disappearing.

“Shit.” she heard one of them say.

Taking advantage of the crowd, Cecilia tries to evade Ethan and flee in between them. But unfortunately for her, she was grabbed by her forearm and pulled inside the boy’s locker room. With someone shutting the door.

“You are not going anywhere. ” Ethan growls, caging her within his arms.

His warm breath fans her chest as she is drawn in his brown orbs. Cecilia’s breath hitches as his manly scent infiltrates her nostrils and her wolf howls for closure.

“Why do I feel something for him? When he touched me, it didn’t feel weird. It felt like I belonged in the warm embrace of his touch.” Cecilia murmured to herself.

But that can’t be true unless he is her mate. Funny enough, Cecilia has already rejected her mate.

This doesn’t make sense, because it’s only a few are privileged to have a second chance mate. The moon goddess surely wouldn’t bless her with another mate when she was the one who rejected her mate.

“You let my captive get away from me.” He states bringing Cecilia out of her trail of thoughts.

“I…” Cecilia opened her mouth but no words managed to come out.

“Shut your mouth, now I need a replacement. He speaks in an aggressive tone, putting his forefinger against her lips.

As his skin brushes against Cecilia’s soft lips, he feels the spark too. A proud smile forms over his face as excitement shines through his brown orbs.

“Not so tough, are we mate?” He questions, inching closer.

“Tell me, does my captive like to be hunted?” He inquired, with his breath faintly falling on her ear lob, making Cecilia’s heart skip a beat. The closeness makes her feel butterflies in her stomach.

“Because I also love to be chased,” Ethan adds, emitting a low growl.

Unlike Andrew, Ethan doesn’t pounce straight at her. He plays with her like a predator does to his prey. But also gives her space at the same time.

“Run.” He states, backing away, He points to a backdoor close to the corridor, allowing Cecilia to escape safely without catching a glimpse of other wolves.

“And don’t let me catch you again.” He advises, his eyes still stuck on her retreating shadow.

“Because I wouldn’t be this nice and kind again,” He mutters under his breath but she happens to hear it as she is about to leave through the back door.

Something tells Cecilia that she just caught Ethan’s attention and it happens that he is her mate. From all indications, it shows that he wouldn’t be letting her go easily.